Hide No Longer, My Child
by Badass Archer Daughter
Summary: A few nervous hours before Aragorn's wedding and coronation, a certain elf-lord comes to visit him. And as he speaks his final words with him, they both realize what the true meaning of love is and just how strong it can go. "And you will remain in my heart, even when I have sailed and your body has grown cold and weary, I will always remember you."


_Dedicated to those who don't feel secure of themselves as people...do not despair! There is always hope! You have a destiny in this world...you just have to work hard to find it, despite all the obstacles you might face._

_And of course, dedicated to Saphira, one of my awesome fanfiction readers and who asked me to write something about Aragorn and Elrond, aka this._

* * *

**Hide No Longer, My Child**

_"Say what you wanna say, _

_And let the words fall out_

_Honestly I wanna see you be brave,"_

_- "Brave" (song) Sarah Bareilles_

* * *

_(4 months after the War of the Ring)_

Elrond had never felt so afraid.

He and some of the other elves that had chosen to remain in Middle-Earth just a while longer had arrived at Minas Tirith but a week ago. Even though they had been graciously offered rooms inside, they had decided not to and instead had camped outside, knowing that it was perhaps the last they would see of Middle-Earth. Yet they all had to admit, Minas Tirith looked beautiful. Glowing with bright lanterns and bursting decorations in the streets, it seemed that all of Mankind was rejoicing and preparing for the festivities to come.

His sons, Elladan and Elrohir, had been incredibly eager to see Aragorn and so they'd already seen him. They'd spent a few days in the citadel and in their way back out of the White City, they'd dragged Legolas back down with them. The prince of Mirkwood had spent the months after the war traveling, and after countless adventures he'd finally decided to stop and help Aragorn with his new duties. He had visited the Imladris elves often to see if they need anything.

His daughter, Arwen, had pleaded and begged with all her might to see Aragorn as well...it had been so long since they had seen each other. However, Elrond did not let go, at least not yet, he insisted. Why? He did not know...perhaps he wanted his daughter to be with him just a while longer. And that was selfish, he knew but he couldn't help it. It would be hard letting his ray of starlight fade but...if it made his little Evenstar happy, he would do it.

Now, Elrond as stood before one beautifully carved door, he could not help but feel fear.

He had watched as his father had sailed away, rarely to be seen by his own children. He had watched as people were slaughtered in Arvernien, as his mother had thrown herself and the silmaril she possessed into the sea to escape. He had watched his little brother die. He had watched as blood and raged had roared all around him in Dagorlad, how the great king who had been a second father to him had been striked down, burned and eaten by fire.

And yet none of that could have prepared him for now.

Slowly, curling his slender scholarly hands around the door knob, he turned it open and slowly pushed it open. The room he entered was lavishly decorated, large and airy full of windows. White and gold surrounded the walls, along with countless other decorations, a large bed, other pieces of furniture and a beautiful large painting of the War of the Ring on the ceiling. Elrond couldn't help but smile. It was the painting of Aragorn in the Black Gates of Mordor, holding Andúril high with his friends and his small army next to him.

"-And I can't believe you seriously got foot cream for our wedding gift!"

Aragorn was chuckling, his face etched in a great smile. He wore a long red robe with a layer of chain mail on top and was clad from head to toe in silver armour. He sat in the rim of the bed and for the first time in many years, his dark brown hair was brushed and he was clean, shining in the sunlight like the true king he was. Behind him, sitting crosslegged in the bed, the twins snickered and smirked, braiding some of Aragorn's hairs. In front of him, Legolas sat in a wooden chair, leaning back as much as he could without falling backwards, chuckling with Aragorn.

"Well, it's logical Estel, considering how you're going to stomp her feet like an olyphaunt while you two start dancing," said Legolas with an amused twinkle in his eyes. "You're lucky you have me to do this for you, _mellon_. You know, since I already have experience with olyphaunts and ahem, I _killed_ one for your information."

Elladan rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Oh, is it a bragging Leaflet I'm hearing? Please Legolas, you killed an olyphaunt. Big deal. Most of us could have done it...no offense meant, Estel."

"Hey! I could've killed one if I had wanted to!" insisted Aragorn raising his hands. The three other elves ignored him.

"Leaflet? How dare you!" said Legolas, leaning forward and whacking Elladan's head playfully. "No one calls me a leaflet and gets away with it! And besides, you should have seen the thing! The head could've knocked down entire towers of Imladris! It was like, twenty times bigger than me! And probably as heavy as Elrohir. You have to give me some recognition."

Elrohir scowled at the prince and whacked him as the other three of them laughed. "Are you comparing me to an olyphaunt? You-!" Then he stopped, his sharp eye caught Elrond at the door and closed his mouth. He stopped braiding Aragorn's hair and everybody else stopped what they were doing, turning to the door. They all stood up and nodded respectfully but the twins rushed forward, the most excited of them all, grinning.

"Ada! What are you doing here?" grinned Elladan.

"I thought you were to come up here in a few hours," added Elrohir.

Elrond smiled, flashing them all a knowing smile. "Yes, I am. I only wanted to speak with Estel for a few minutes." And then he added, when he saw that none of them budged from where they stood. "And I do believe the others are starting to prepare themselves. I suppose you three should do so as well."

They got what he meant.

"Of course! We were so busy here pampering Estel that we forgot about ourselves! Come Ro, we need to show Legolas the true meaning of good-looking!" said Elladan jokingly as the three of them headed towards the door. And the last thing Elrond and Aragorn heard as the three of them disappeared from sight, was the sound of Legolas snorting, saying, "Please,_ fabulous _runs in my family's blood. Let _me_ teach you a lesson about appearances, Noldo."

As the door closed and the foster father and son faced each other, an eerie silent serving as their wall, the to-be King of Gondor sighed, his head hung low.

"I am sorry,_ hir-nin_."

Elrond was takenback. First of all, it was the title. Sure, their relationship had gone a bit rocky since Aragorn's destiny had been revealed to him but they had eventually slightly reconciled. Besides, despite everything, Aragorn had always called Elrond 'Adar.' Never something as cold and foreign as 'my lord.' And second of all, there was his apology.

"Dear child, why would you say such things?" he replied frowning. "Why do you apologize?"

"I failed. I tried but...I couldn't get her to go. _I _couldn't let her go. She was the dawn to my lonely night. She is the one who lights my heart with her every smile. Knowing I would see her no more...it pained me, hir-nin," Aragorn whispered, his head still low. "And now, my selfishness has bound her here until her final breath and her blood will be on my hands."

Elrond didn't know what to say. Stepping forward, he gently grabbed his foster son's hands, just like he had done many years in the past when this great king was just a child, and he interwined them with his own. And he smiled at him, pure genuine happiness. Aragorn looked up, frowning at this gesture and in his eyes...oh, his eyes had always remained the same. He was a man now, tall and strong, not like the clumsy little child he had once been. He had regained all honor and glory for his line since Isildur's mistake, he had accomplished his life's destiny and his name would be remembered in song and verse.

But he would always keep those eyes. That sea of grey and blue. Those eyes filled with a radiant happiness, a calm demeanor, an explosion of emotions, a wall of steel and those were the very same eyes that brought Elrond memories. _So many_ memories...

* * *

_(11 years old)_

"-so clumsy, that even an olyphaunt could shoot straighter than you!"

Elrond stopped abruptly and frowned. He backtracked a bit and with his keen ears, he followed the sound of that mocking voice. He followed it until he reached the archery range of Imladris. Quietly, he stood behind one of the trees, watching as a scene unfolded. Standing there was Estel. His eyes were on fire, defiant and full of anger but his body was shaking, afraid.

Surrounding him were three other elven children, who were at least a thousand years older than the little boy. Elrond knew every single one of them by name and he also knew their fathers, their homes, their mothers and their amount of siblings...after all, their fathers were warriors serving under Elrond's command. He could pull some strings he knew but he waited, watching curiously.

Estel blushed furiously, glaring at the tallest elfling, who was apparently the ring leader. "Well! At least I shot the target!"

Suddenly, in one swift move, the ringleader snatched Estel's bow with a strong brutality and grabbed an arrow of his own. In one split second, he shot the arrow across the field and shot the target: right in the bull's eyes. Estel stood there in awe but immediately erased that look out of his face as he turned to glare once again at the smirking elf, who was now examining Estel's bow, musing.

"Hmm, fancy bow. Might keep it for myself you know. Good bark. Very expensive."

"NO! Give it back!" barked Estel as he tried to reach for it but failed, since the ringleader elf was significantly taller than him.

"Mm...don't think so," he said and his cronies laughed, although Elrond did not see the joke. "You know, I kind of deserve it. Being a _good _archer after all, unlike you. And besides, who would give you, a stupid fatherless mortal scum, such a bow like this? You're not even worthy of standing here, much less of having hold of elvish weapons."

Estel growled. "My _friend_ gave it to me! And I'm not a scum, you idiot! And you? You deserve to eat poop, for all I care! Now give it!"

"Your friend? You don't have any friends, who would want to be friends with someone like you?" the elf snorted, seemingly ignoring the 'eat poop' comment.

"I do have friends! And much better ones than you'll ever get!" Estel said, as he hopped, trying to reach for his bow. "Now GIVE IT! Hand it over or I-I-I'll-!"

"Or you'll what? Run off and tell 'Ada?' Please, I'm not scared of a healer lord," said the elf rolling his eyes, sneering. "And he's not even your father, you filthy _adan_. You're just lucky he sees some pity in you or else you'd probably be some human rolling around in the mud like the rest of them. But well, what would you expect from a dwarf-lover?"

"My Ada is the best lord of them all!" growled Estel back. "He's not a dwarf-lover! And I don't need anybody's pity!"

"Or...actually, now that I'm thinking, I do think he might be your father. Yes, yes! Don't you all think? Of course, nobody would expect our oh-so great Lord Elrond doing such an atrocity so soon after our dear Lady Celebrían's parting but...it is possible," said the elf and then passed the bow to one of his friends and leaned down, his face curled up in a cruel sneer. "Although he could've chosen a better human whore. To have someone as ugly as you-"

Elrond could not take it anymore.

He walked towards the archery field, his eyes burning with the fiercest glare he'd ever held, one that had been taught straight by King Gil-Galad himself and he stepped forward firmly in front of Estel and then he half-growled, half-asked, "Anything wrong here?"

The three elves paled immediately. The ringleader the most. His eyes were larger than saucers and almost fell out of his sockets. The bow slipped out of his hands and he went into a run, speeding off into the distance. The other two followed him not soon after and in a matter of seconds, all that was left in their place was dust. Elrond huffed, feeling slightly satisfied and turned to Estel, whose head was hung low as he picked his bow up.

"You know...what they say isn't true, Estel," he whispered, putting one hand on his shoulder. "Don't listen to them. They were only trying to provoke you-"

"BUT IT'S TRUE!" The boy sobbed, throwing himself on the ground, the bow still in hand. "I'm stupid and worthless and the only reason I'm here is because you SOUGHT PITY OUT OF ME! Because I'm a slimy little adan and Isildur, a Man, dishonored our entire race but you felt bad for me!"

Elrond flaashed him a sad look. "Estel, don't say that. Of course it isn't. It was but my greatest pleasure to have you and your mother here," Elrond said, sitting down next to the boy. It was a strange sight, a tall noble elven lord sitting next to a sweaty sobbing little adan in an archery field patiently.

"Maybe, but...but I'm not worthy of being here!" said Estel. Then he cried a bit more and continued. "I CAN'T EVEN SHOOT a tiny arrow from a few feet away! Even the smallest of elflings can do that! I'm clumsy and idiotic and stupid and worthless-"

"No! Estel, you're none of those things!" said Elrond, enraged by the remarks of those elflings. He'd sure have a serious word with their parents. Gently, he grabbed the bow and balanced it in his hand. It had been years since he'd touched one and anyways, he prefered the sword. "The elflings are already many decades older than you,_ penneth_. Besides, Legolas told me you did quite good. He says you even learned more quickly than he did at your age."

Estel sniffed, although he seemed somewhat more relieved. "B-But Legolas was a baby when he was my age!"

"Uh...true, but still! He wouldn't have given one of his precious bows for anything in the world. You should've seen him with Dan and Ro in the past. He wouldn't even let them be in a five feet radius from his bow. Much less let them keep it. To give it to you means he thinks that you're going to be a great archer."

"B-But I missed every single one!" Estel sniffed, and looked about to break into tears again. "The best I hit was the third ring!"

"Oh, come on, it shouldn't be so hard," said Elrond. He stood up and curiously, Estel did as well. Elrond squinted his eyes, aiming as he grabbed an arrow and nocked it on the bow. The wood and bowstring were unfamiliar to his scholarly hands but still, he was able to shoot it and the arrow flew across the field-

To land nowhere.

The arrow missed the target entirely, flying an inch above the target and whizzing into the deep foliage of Imladris trees. Elrond grunted in frustration. Out of all weapons, his least favorite was the bow and arrow. And sure, he hadn't practiced for a few centuries but...miss the target? He wasn't _that_ bad, he was certain. And well, this wasn't particularly impressive towards Estel. Carefully, he turned around to watch his son, whose eyebrows were scrunched up with confusion. He quietly watched as the arrow whizzed into the forest and then, after an awkward silence, he did something that took Elrond back.

He laughed.

He laughed hysterically and he burst out with giggles, mercilessly shaming Elrond. He was laughing so hard, that he even collapsed in the ground holding his stomach, wiping tears of amusement. He continued laughing, even while Elrond gave him a glare, telling him that he was obviously not pleased. Slowly, the child began to regain his breath, the issue with the other elflings forgotten already. As he was gasping to speak between labored breaths, Elrond briefly heard some words, "Ada," breath, "you-" a breath, "are-" breath, "terrible-" breath, "at archery!" Double breath and another laugh.

Elrond crossed his arms indignantly, although a smile was imprinted in his face. "Well, I am not _that_ bad-"

"You're the worst archer I've ever seen! And I thought Erestor says you are such a good archer and warrior, that you could shoot an arrow through a hole the size of a finger!" laughed Estel, regaining his breath and standing up.

"Then, oh-so gallant archer," said Elrond, giving the bow to Estel and going into the tool shed and grabbing a larger one, "you wouldn't mind giving me a demonstration of what_ good _archery looks like?"

The Lord of Imladris and his foster son spent the remaining afternoon shooting, until Erestor went down to call them up to eat, grunting something about how 'unhealthy hygiene, something both father and son have,' which make them both laugh. None of them went very well though. And even an amused balrog-slayer had come to visit, chastising the healer lord and shamelessly expressing his disappointment, much to Elrond's frustration and scowls. Sure, Estel didn't really shoot past the third ring...but that afternoon, Estel's happiness hit the bull's eye.

* * *

_(2 years old)_

Elrond hadn't wanted him, to be honest.

Elrond had already enough to deal with and with Middle-Earth crumbling, he didn't need anything more. And despite his kind and wise nature, he couldn't care less about some adan child. Really, he was just _that_ irritated with all the issues that were happening. It seemed as if he was the only one who was truly doing something, along with Gandalf. The Men were ignorant as ever; the dwarves were oblivious, hiding themselves inside their cave mines hoarding gold and other riches...and his fellow elves? King Thranduil was no longer the elf he'd known and he sure had enough issues to deal with, in his evil infested kingdom. And despite the fact Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were both powerful, their light could go no further than their kingdom.

The heritage had interested Elrond though. This...was the descendant of his little brother. It had also caused him some anger though, burning memories in his mind. His ancestors were the reason he currently had this burden today. Son of the Chieftain of the Dunédain, a man called Arathorn. He had married young, to some lady called Gilraen and they'd had a son, one they had called Aragorn. This child, Elrond knew, was the Heir of Isildur, the very one who was causing Elrond all these migraines. His ignorance had been the reason that Sauron still existed and it angered him. How could this child be any different? How could he be any better? How could he be the hope they needed in these dark times?

It really had been the idea of the twins. Apparently, they had met Arathorn in one of their travels with the Dunédain and they'd befriended each other immediately. They had begged and pleaded, insisting they should take Aragorn in like many of his predecessorsand they even promised him they'd stop pranking for an entire week! Which was, considering how long the twins of Imladris had been terrorizing Imladris, a blessing.

"Come on Ada! Besides, don't be such a party pooper...it'll be fun! I promise you! You can even hitch him up with Erestor and you can finally get 'that decently obedient child' you always wanted!" exclaimed one of his sons, Elrohir.

"Right! He could be some, erm...male Arwen! Ada, please! Just do it! You know how dangerous it is to the Dunédain! Always moving, always hiding from danger and from Sauron's minions...come on, that's no way to raise a child!" added Elladan.

Rolling his eyes, he'd finally gived in. Although he knew he would regret it soon. But for now, the smile that would appear in his sons' faces would be priceless. Besides, there was no way he could make them forget about this. Once his sons insisted something, they stayed the same the entire way...which mostly ended up being something bad for him.

"Well, Legolas was raised in Mirkwood and looked how he turned out," he teased, a smile plastered in his face.

His sons already knew what it meant. They had thanked their father, given each other fists and whooped in happiness before Elladan had turned to his father, rolling his eyes with an exasperated look. "Please Ada,_ Legolas_? He was going to turn out into a little brainwashed battle clone if he hadn't come here with us for visit. We converted him into awesomeness-"

"-And if it weren't for us, well...he'd be the definition of _boring _in a person. It took us a lot of time though, King Thranduil must be a really good brainwasher," said Elrohir, finishing for his brother.

"Come on Ro! We need to decorate Aragorn's room! It's going to be awesome! We're going to put banners around the room and we're going to put a chandelier with streamers hanging from it-" Elladan and his brother jumped out of their seats and dashed out of the doors, deep in chatter. The last thing he'd heard was the distant excited exchange of ideas of the twins.

"Oh! And we can give him nicknames! So he can join the gang with Legolas and we can be the best foursome in town! You know, like Legolas is Leggy, you are Dan, I'm Ro and Aragorn can be like..."

"Gorny? Aragy? Gorno Borno?"

"Please, I said nickname, not social isolation."

Not everybody had been that happy with the choice though. But two hours after his choice, Elrond had been quietly signing some letters and treaties before the door had been burst open, lock and all, and two very tedious-looking, fuming elves came in and stood before Lord Elrond. One of them was a tall, very toned blond elf clad in full training armour and a sword from his belt. The other one was smaller, thinner but quiet and scholarly-looking, holding his own pile of parchment.

"WHOA ELROND! What do you mean there's going to be a new child here?" demanded Glorfindel. "I will not have this!"

"Me neither!" exclaimed Erestor. "I had enough with your two childrens, no _balrogs _is more like it! Um...sorry Glorfindel. But really...there is NO WAY I will have to tutor more of your children! I have lost HAIR by doing so! Do you wish for us both to sail to Valinor earlier?"

"Mellyn, it is good to see you. Sit down and speak calmly. I will hear you out...although knocking would've been preferable," said Elrond pleasantly, looking up and then shooting a glare at his balrog-slaying friend. "Anyways, about the child, he is the son of Arathorn, the-"

"Chieftain of the Dunédain, we know who he is," said Erestor. And then, the usually quiet scholar banged his hand on Elrond's desk to make a point. They meant business. "And we don't care about that! We don't care if he's a human, if he's an elf, a dwarf, a hobbit, a dragon, a troll, a goblin, an orc...I don't care! We don't want a child here and period."

"He is but a two year old in human years baby. What harm-?"

"What harm? You're the wisest figure I know, Elrond. How can you not know of your sons' diabolical plan?" exclaimed Glorfindel, throwing his muscular hands open. "Maybe he won't be a harm right now but he will. And you listen to me well, he will. And we will go through Mandos all over again. Your sons are just training an apprentice, since they're getting too old for these atrocities they call pranks. They're going to raise him to be a mini-them! They're going to turn him into one of them and then make Imladris a disaster all over again!"

Elrond sighed. "And what will you have me do then, mellon?"

They spoke at the same time.

"Don't send out your letter yet-!"

"Wait a few centuries for another child-!"

"Reject your sons' request-!"

Elrond leaned back in his comfortable armchair, looking deep with his blue eyes into Erestor's dark indigo ones and Glorfindel's light blue hues. He breathed in, trying to bring together all those persuasive conversation skills he got from his father.

"All right...what if I did this? Erestor, if you tutor this child and let him come here, I will give you more vacations. Glorfindel, you also get the same deal. Also, if this Dunédain boy gets into bad trouble...then you two can force him and the twins to do anything,_ anything _you want."

With mischievous looks in their faces, Glorfindel and Erestor had turned to each other, grinning evil smiles.

That is how they all found themselves waiting for the horse carrying a blonde lady and her child, standing in the guest welcoming courtyard, where they usually met their guests. Standing patiently, Elrond's agile eyes scanned the path before him; at his left, his sons spoke to each other excitedly, with exaggerate gestures and at his right, Glorfindel and Erestor grumbling and grunting to each other quietly.

Suddenly, out of the distance, they saw a brown blur approach. Sucking his breath, he watched nervously as they headed closer. Sure, he had been in full awareness of what was happening around him, but it had been some time since Man had come into his house. How was he going to be? He sighed. It would not be easy to raise this child. It had been so long since he'd raised his last child and now Arwen was already more than two thousand years old and a beautiful lady at her full bloom. But an adan boy?

And this child...if he truly was the son of Arathorn, who was now deceased, then it meant that he was the true heir of Gondor, a king. A mere babe would be thrust with a destiny far larger than the world upon his shoulders. And it was then that Elrond felt nothing but pity for the child. He would live a life of danger if he knew who he was. He would live a life of constant peril, of insecurities. And Elrond might not know how adan children were raised...but he was sure that this child, like all others, deserved a childhood.

But sacrifices would have to be made in order to give him that. The child would be forced to a life of lies. A fake name. To have the truth hidden from him. They could not risk revealing his identity, for there was darkness everywhere and the possibilites were endless. He would live in secret until he was old enough to learn of his heritage and he would live in hiding, forever unsure of who he was. Of who his father was. Of who his ancestors were. Of who he was to be. He would grow up lost and confused...

Would a childhood really be worth it, if it was to be lived in the shadows?

Stopping in front of him, the brown mare neighed and went into a stop. Sitting on the horse was a woman. She was medium in stature but her beauty was evident. Long shiny blonde curls showered down her slender shoulders like a golden waterfall. Her eyes were a warm dark brown and her figure was slender and curved, like a graceful statue. And yet she did not look all that happy. Her face was weary with fatigue and sadness. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes bitter and distrustful.

Elrond sighed, he reminded him so much of his Celebrían. His own ray of happiness, his other half, his true love, his lost soul. Of course, she had been far more beautiful than this adan lady, stunning and radiant like the brightest of stars. It was said that even her beauty could have rivaled her mother's and in Elrond's heart...she was the most precious jewel in the world.

And yet still, their resemblance was striking and he couldn't help just compare them both and remember the joyful memories he'd had with his wife. Turning to his sons, he realized they too saw a resemblance. They were stunned, their faces frozen and their eyes slightly wide. At his right, Lord Glorfindel and Erestor watched the lady, observing her every move carefully. They made no movement and that is why he took initiative.

"Ah, Lady Gilraen, welcome to Imladris!" he said in the common tongue, giving her his most charming smile. "It is not truly your home but I hope you learn to accept it as if it is."

Quietly, he watched as the young woman looked around at her surreal surroundings and then turn back to Lord Elrond, with a shy look on her face. She nodded and suddenly, she spoke. Her voice was soft and soothing, quiet but steady. "I thank you Lord Elrond. We are forever in your debt."

Slowly, Elrond stepped forward and he noticed the tiny bundle in her arms. Slowly he asked, careful not to sound intrusive, "I see...may I?" he asked, gesturing the baby.

Hesitantly, she looked around and with one careful move she passed the baby into his arms. Surprisingly, the boy had fallen asleep throughout his mother's dangerous journey and was now blissfully snoring. "Yes, but he is asleep, do not wake him up," she said sternly, perhaps too sternly but all Elrond did was respond with a hearty chuckle.

"I promise I will not, after all I have already carried three of these bundles," he said, smiling. This made the lady blush slightly, who hadn't thought about the fact that Lord Elrond had been a father before and behind him, he felt his sons wave at the lady and stepped forward to greet her, which made her even more uncomfortable, but distracted her. After, Glorfindel and Erestor stepped forward to welcome her as well.

Seizing this brief opportunity, he gently pulled the blanket away and a tiny face was revealed, curled up in a happy position. Strands of dark brown locks curled up on his beautiful face. Everything seemed so tiny...Valar, not even his own children had looked so petite and helpless in his hands. To think this child would be king one day... He shook his head, sighing. That was nothing to think about right now. For now, the boy was beautiful and perfect and Lord Elrond would have it no other way. He held no regrets in his choice now. Besides, he knew it would be easy to call this boy his son.

He already loved him.

* * *

_(Flashforward to present time)_

"My son," he said to Aragorn. "It is not your fault, but rather, mine. For many decades have you hidden your feelings for her. I had forced you to keep your love caged inside your heart, only for that cage to be overwhelmed with emotion and explode. It was my wrong, not yours. Long have you wished to be happy and long have I denied it to you. I had feared for the worse...but now I know better. You have spent your days in the shadows, my boy. You have been fed lies in exchange of safety. You have lived your life following the world with your head hung low."

"And now," he said, his smile widening. "Hide no longer, my child! Rise and claim your place in this world. Fear not what others want you to be and be the change you are in this world! Rise from the shadows and claim that light you were always destined to seek. Put aside the ranger and be the one you were born to be. A king! Take pride in your name, in your heritage, in your people.

"Rise and claim your love, the one you have hidden so long before. Climb and reach for it, treasure my little Evenstar and make her feel even more loved than Elbereth herself. Care for her, be patient to her. Love passionately, gently but also like you have no tomorrow. Cherish your moments together and swear to remember her then, even in times of quarrel. I give you two my blessing...and I hope you will take this day and guard it with happiness, for it may shine in your heart even when the road darkens.

"And most importantly, be Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Do not hesitate with your choices for they will never be truly wrong nor truly right. Have faith in yourself, Estel, and you will not fail. This city will shine once more and you will be there to lead it. You will not let it fall."

There was a silence between them, one in which foster son regarded him in awe with those gray-blue eyes he knew so well and then, the unexpected happened. His son leaned forward, his eyes sparkling and hugged his foster father tight.

"Adar, it is true I have hidden from the world," he said slowly. "And it is true that I have spent much of my life in shadow. And yes, I am afraid of welcoming my destiny but it is not that...what if I do wish to remember the shadow? To remember the blissful moments I had in Imladris? The carefree days in which I spent with the twins as a child? The laughter and love I received from all of you? You tell me to forget the shadow, to forget my past...and yet what if there are some things worth remembering? Things _I_ want to remember."

"And I am the king now, I understand that's what I am. But sometimes...I can't help wanting to be just Estel. What I really want to know, my lord, is that..." the king to-be sighed and then continued. "Well, will I still be your son? Because that is something of my past I do not want to forget. And-"

And now Elrond was crying, tears overflowing on his cheeks. And not because he was in pain or because he was overwhelmed with sadness. Not because he was grieving or because he was afraid but because he was happy, happy beyond any level possible. He was proud of what his foster son had grown up to be and he would always be. After all, not all tears are evil. He hugged his son back, even tigher.

"Oh, of course you will be, Estel," whispered Elrond. "I would never have cared. You could have been a king or a ranger or a mere soldier...and I would have been so proud. Oh, so proud. Because even though you are not mine, you will always be my fourth child. And no matter what you do, I am always going to love you, child. And you will remain in my heart, even when I have sailed and your body has grown cold and weary, I will always remember you."

"Always?" asked Aragorn, although it was now reduced to a mere whimper.

"Always," insisted Elrond.

* * *

**AN: Valar, I am crying! I am crying and writing and drinking coffee and repeating the cycle all over again. How sad! Damn, I did not know I was capable of putting so much emotion in this. I'm actually pretty proud...I specialize in Thranduil & Legolas after all. But this truly did turn up beautifully.**

**By the way, don't you guys think I am so CLEVER? In my other fanfic which I sent to Teitho, 'I Fear Lightning No More.' I separated it into three different ages, making him older each time. And now, I did the same but backwards! :D **

**I know that I should've put some more of adult Aragorn but I figured that would kind of make this story longer...and while I was tempted, I remembered that time I made an 8,000 WORD chapter, so yes, I decided to keep this as it is. If you want for me to write any other one-shots, just PM or review! :) **

**Anyways, I decided to try my best and finish it. Kind of my way to say goodbye to summer, you know? Anyways...I might actually have to put my stories in hiatus (it's temporal only! Don't worry!) because of schoolwork in the future but hopefully you'll still follow and love my stories! :D**

**Thanks for reading and hope you liked this! :)**


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